Dissecting Her Psyche
by The Beautiful Filth
Summary: They said it meant sacrifice, they call her Natara. Yet nobody really saw through what was beneath the facade of a girl who dissects psyches for a living, except for him - but there's no more. T for mild language.


She lay motionless on her bed, facing the plain white ceiling adorned by an unilluminated light bulb. The soft light bled through the cracks in the curtains, blending into the darkness in the room.

Was this the only remaining light in her life?

She had seen things, things far more than anyone should have. From her partner getting shot in the blazing sun, the wailing of an infant, former partner turning into a serial killer that only wanted her after going through a killing spree with the Kraken Ink, to her estrangement from her father, almost causing her sister to die by involving herself in law enforcement; she had seen too much. She threw herself in work so as to drown the sorrow and heartbreak, but she never let herself recover.

Until she met him.

He was there with her since she started her first official duty at SFPD, yet he never hinted at anything. She wasn't sure if the fleeting looks he had on her face were real, she never knew if any emotions flew past his eyes when she stared off at the balcony because she was too focused at the views in front of her - the torments of the sea that only she could see behind the curtain of brown hair she surrounded her face with.

He had taken things slow with her - for almost three years. Then on one rainy evening, the both of them let down their barriers - and wept. They cried for their past demons, their past shadows that prevented them from seeing something so big, so beautiful and so peaceful. He said he was sorry for everything, that he was sorry for doubting himself, and he put his arm around her frail shoulders, shaky from tears, and swept hair away from her face and softly kissed her cheek.

* * *

The breakup was something _right_. It _had_ to happen before she lost herself for good, before she dragged him down with her into the black hole, the darkness.

Yet if it was something right, why was she hurting so much?

Tossing around, she grabbed a fist of what she thought was her pillow, and clung tightly to it. She remembered the moments they shared, the stolen looks of happiness and longing and care - _not love_ , she corrected herself - and the secret but passionate kisses that ignited the fire between the two seemingly dissimilar but in fact kindred spirits, bringing them closer and closer together.

The warm, brown eyes hardened, chocolate freezing and turning into rock. It was her choice, and she had no right to feel hurt over it. She made the decision. It was her decision to break up with Mal, to not drag him down into her mess. She needed time to figure out who the hell she was, and she very damn well would do this.

She was hurting. Of course she was - she just let the person that she cared about the most in the world go, and now there's a gaping hole in her heart that just wouldn't _bloody mend_.

He still replied to her messages, but it wasn't the same anymore. There were no more inside jokes that would only make sense if they were still dating, there were no more "good mornings" and "good nights" and affectionate name-calling even if she would die before admitting this to anyone but him.

Eventually, the messages drifted to a close.

It hurt. It hurt to see the present when they used to be so close in the past. Was the romance a Pandora's box, not meant to be opened at all? She would have willingly kept it closed so they would stay at the ambiguous more-than-friends-but-less-than-lovers stage, if it meant she wouldn't lose him.

Dammit, she missed him. She missed him so much.

Yet for her, and for him, she had to leave. She had to leave this relationship before it turned toxic for the both of them.

 _I love you,_ she finally summoned her courage to admit this. _I love you,_ she whispered again to the darkness that encased her room. _I'm sorry, Mal. I love you so much I never even realised it. But you must let me go. Let me go, Mal, before our love turns toxic and becomes the Kraken's Ink that kills the both of us._

It didn't make the pain any less.

* * *

 _ **For you. Not only for my readers, but it is for you, to whom I said there is something I wrote that I'd bury but some day, someone may find it. This isn't the story I talked about, but it dissected my psyche as much as it did Natara's. It had been four (almost) beautiful months, and I thank you for that.**_

* * *

 **This is my first fanfiction update in a year, and I can't express how sorry I am. I didn't update _Colder Than Ice_ (Sherlock) like I promised, among many things. It has been an eventful year, and I didn't have the energy to write a fanfiction when I could just write an original story without thinking of fitting the personality of the characters. I'll try my best to update on here more often, but if you want to read updates from me, please check out my fictionpress profile.**

 **Thank you so much for reading.**

 **-Christie**


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